Arrived at home he received the usual scolding. His mother maintained that he had certainly not entered the shop in a “respectable” manner; otherwise the young gentleman would have given him a friendlier reception. She was afraid that those excellent gentlemen, Motto, Business & Co., would take this into consideration to his detriment.
“And you say there were already a whole lot of letters there? You see, Stoffel—if he only isn’t too late! That’s the way—those people would break their necks or be first. And who knows but what some of them are Roman Catholics? I wonder if they all think they’re moral and well-behaved. You can just see what kind of people there are in the world!”
Walter had to go back to Maaskamp’s and get the address of the firm in question. The idea was for him to call on the firm in person and thus get ahead of everybody else. Juffrouw Pieterse wanted to bet her ears that not a one of the other applicants could boast of a father who had sold Parisian shoes.
“Tell them that! Your father never took a stitch in his life. He didn’t even know how to. It’s only to prove that we had a business, too. He never had an awl in his hand—isn’t it so, Stoffel?”
Those eminently respectable gentlemen, Motto, Business & Co., lived—I don’t know where they lived; but they had founded on the Zeedyk a cigar store and a circulating library. It was probably not far from the place where six or eight centuries earlier a few fishermen had founded the greatest commercial city of Europe.
Walter found one of those worthy gentlemen behind the counter. He was in his shirt-sleeves, and was engaged in weighing out some snuff for an old woman. “Business” was evidently being carried on.
As Walter had formed no conception of “responsible business firm,” he was far from thinking that the gentlemen had claimed too much for themselves. With his peculiar timidity he even reproached himself for not having understood the conception “business” before.
Now he understood it. Business meant to stand behind a counter, in shirt-sleeves, and weigh snuff. And, too, on the Zeedyk.
The cigar store occupied only half the width of the house, and was connected with the circulating library by a side door. Motto, Business & Co. were simultaneously cultivating two industries: those who didn’t care for snuff or tobacco could get something to read, and vice versa.
Over the shelves, on the tobacco side, were posted signs bearing the assurance that something was “manufactured” here. Differing entirely from the Pieterses, these gentlemen seemed to think that to make a thing meant more than merely to sell it. We leave the question undecided.